How We Got Here
by PineappleRuffles
Summary: Shawn and Gus have been friends - fisticuffs, sour pineapples and all - for a long time. Here's my take on that. Starts early, will eventually get to present day. T for language later.


**A/N:** So, I have had this sitting around on my computer for, uh, a few months now. In hopes of expanding my horizons a little bit, I thought I might toss it up. If it diverges from canon any, I'm sorry; not only is it a few months old, I don't have quite the same powers of memory as Shawn! I don't think I'm making too many grievous mistakes - I just watched an episode tonight and Shawn DID say something along the lines of "We've been friends practically since birth" sooo, hey. ;) This...really has no point, except I like my backstories, and I really love the fact that Gus and Shawn have been friends for so long. I'll throw up new ones whenever I get the muse to do so, whee.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Psych. I don't! It's horribly sad. This is also unbeta'd.

. . . . . . . .

**November, 1977**

Henry Spencer stared hard at the strange sight that met his eyes when the daycare worker brought him back to the playroom to pick up his ten-month-old son. Curled up in the same bean-bag chair were Shawnie and another boy of about the same age, both clutching the same toy and near-identical expressions of stubbornness even in sleep. Not that he was surprised, on Shawn's part. The infant was already taking a few steps at a time, and he was half-sure the kid would be running soon. For all that, though, he had not, thus far, been a very communicative child. Something about being the only baby around for the first nine and a half months of his life. That he was sleeping within ten feet of any of the other babies was...odd. He frowned.

"Today, we got a new little boy - Shawnie and Burton, here, didn't get off on a good note, Mr. Spencer. Burton took Shawn's toy and Shawn hit him with a train." The woman had the patience of a Saint; Henry would probably have exploded with all of these obnoxious brats around all day. He had a hard enough time not knocking around the criminals he collared. "They've been fighting all day; just got to sleep about five minutes ago. Neither wanted to give that Giraffe up." She chuckled, and Henry pinched the bridge of his nose. Maybe Maddie'd take more time off from school...

. . . . . . . .

**December, 1977**

Smiling for the first time all day, Henry sauntered into the daycare, smiling brightly at the ladies behind the desk. "Good afternoon, ladies! Is Shawn ready to go?" He hoped so; they were heading to Hawaii tonight for a week-long Christmas vacation. He had a whole week alone with his beautiful wife and son waiting for him. He was happy.

Apparently, Lucinda-the-nanny recognized this, since she flashed him a megawatt smile of her own. "Of course, Mr. Spencer! You'll be happy to hear that he and little Burton are getting along, these days. They're even sharing their toys. Shawn is a -" Oh, he knew that pause. Shawn was a _special flower_, as his dad put it, and that was damn polite. The kid was something else. Apparently deciding that she really didn't have a descriptive word, Lucinda chuckled and led the way down the brightly-colored hall to the playroom for infants.

As usual, it was an absolute cacophony of noise. His son seemed to be the cause of a lot of it, actually, yanking the adorable pigtail of one brown-haired girl and running behind the other boy giggling wildly. Henry sighed. "Shawn!"

The unexpected reprimand startled the hell out of his boy, and Henry grinned. Good. He still had it.

"Da!" All sunshine and smiles, Shawnie waved both fat fists at him, and Henry smiled. He wasn't a monster: exasperating as a small child invariably was, he loved Shawn with all of himself. It hadn't once failed to brighten his day, seeing the boy. "Hey, kiddo. You can't go pulling girls' hair. It's not nice." Though his son wasn't quite old enough to understand an apology, he understood the gist of the reprimand well enough.

Burton stared at him wide-eyed as he loomed; apparently, though he'd somehow been in Shawn's general vicinity each of the twenty-five days since he'd first arrived when Henry came to pick up his son, he still scared the infant. He smiled a little, shaking his head. It wasn't like Shawn hadn't gone through his shy stages. "Hey, kiddo." He greeted all the same, smiling as he plucked Shawn up and stood, preparing to leave and already planning where to stop for dinner.

His retreat pulled up short, though, when Shawn started crying. "Gus!" He wailed, chubby fists flapping as he squirmed, trying to get down. "GusGusGusGus n-n-no! Da!" The words came out in a jumbled rush, and, as every other time Shawn genuinely cried, his heart broke a little. He tried a little bounce, extending the boy out to arm-length to stare at him warily. Fat tears drained down the kid's face; his changing-to-brownish eyes squinted up in perceived agony. Absolutely dumbfounded, Henry stared at the other little boy, who'd promptly dissolved into weeping moments after Shawn had. What in the name of all that was Holy was _this_, now?

"_Down!_ GusGusGus -"

. . . . . . . .

**June, 1980**

"_GUS_!"

Exasperated as he had been for two-and-a-half years, now, with _this_ whole circus, Henry stared down at his son. Another day, another pick-up from daycare, and for the love of all that was holy...could he, for once, get away without the waterworks? No? He'd settle for just one of them crying, but _apparently_ Shawn's friend was a sympathetic crier.

"D-D-_Daaaaaddy_, no! I don't wanna! Don't make me leave m'Gus I don't wanna _please_." Shawn wailed his usual refrain, and Henry sighed, hands rubbing over his face. They'd somehow made it past two without killing the hyperactive boy, but now that he'd mastered making less-than-rational arguments, it had gotten harder. Across the room, the woman he'd come to recognize as Winnie Guster smiled a little, tiredly wrestling with not only Burton but a smaller girl and older boy. "Burton, _baby_, can't you just -" She wailed dramatically, grating on Henry's nerves as much as the sobs of her little boy. Who was shaking his head madly, stubbornly standing next to Shawn, both of them hitting the waterworks.

He had a headache.

Reasoning with them wasn't going to work. Whatever they did here during the day, whether it was tormenting that poor little Abigail or sharing their lunches or secretly running the world, after they'd gotten done beating one another up...they'd been inseparable. _Henry didn't have two children!_ And, bless all that looked down on his sanity, Maddie didn't want another. So how was it that he had to consider two kids every time he picked his son up from daycare?

He sighed. "Shawn, son, c'mon. We'll pick up some icecream on the way home?" That usually worked, but apparently today was not going to be a normal day. Little Gus hugged Shawn around the middle and Shawn cried harder, pointing an accusing finger at him. Was he supposed to feel guilty for taking his son _home_, now? "NO, dad. No-no-bad. I wanna stay with Gus. Why can't I?" Shawn grumbled defiantly, and Henry valiantly resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose again. Winnie had lost that battle long ago and was trying to pull Gus off of Shawn, making soothing noises while her younger girl cried (maybe the crying thing was genetic?) and the older boy stared at them boredly.

For God's sake, he was a Cop. He could handle this. "Alright, ma'am -" Maybe that was wrong. "...Mrs. Guster. Would you like to come to dinner at our house with your family?" He questioned politely, mentally running through just what they had in the pantry. Maddie was going to kill him, but, hey. Maybe it was time they were social outside of her school and the force.

"I was thinking of grilling the last of the big ole' tuna I caught the other day. Maybe salad and some mac 'n cheese with it since that's all Shawnie'll eat right now." He tried to smile benignly; he'd been told he had a scary smile, but honest, he tried to look friendly. Never mind that he mostly felt exasperated; he had a feeling it would be a feeling he'd carry for the rest of his life, at this point, when it came to his precious son. The headache throbbed dully behind his right eye.

Winnie squinted at him, thoughtfully, for a moment. Then she smiled. "Bill and William have some father-son bonding time planned for tonight, but I would be more happy to join you with Gus and Joy here. Are you sure?" She questioned, just as polite as he was, and Henry laughed. If it got Shawn and Gus to stop squalling like that, he'd do a lot. He just wanted a beer! "Yes ma'am, I am! Maddie's been muttering about socializing with people for a while, now, and you live right up the road, don't you? Might as well start with you." Maybe it was blunt, but he was feeling more and more blunt, these days. Winnie didn't seem to mind, anyways. "Plus, these two aren't gonna stop. I know Shawn when he's like this - he's just going to get louder. Want me to take Gus on with us?"

The very last thing he wanted to do right now was take on another toddler, but well...maybe they'd stop screaming, then. Winnie squinted at him for a long moment, but apparently a few years and a reputation as a damn good cop were good enough credentials for babysitting. She smiled, gratefully. "That sounds wonderful, Mr. Spencer. I'll be along in about an hour with dessert."

. . . . . . . .

**August, 1982**

Shawn Spencer had never been more excited for any of the days in his life this was going to be _so cool oh man_. Was everybody this excited to start school? He thought they should be, since this was _awesome_, and cool and neat and all those other words that meant good things and made him want to jump around.

He grinned sideways at his dad; getting to ride in the front seat was a rare treat, and since Mom'd had to study for a test or something he was riding with dad to school for his first day. His first day of school! The daycare's preschool didn't count; Mrs. Lucinda was stupid, anyways, she didn't even know who Batman was. Maybe his new teacher would. Surely she would! Miss Judy was going to be so much cooler, anyways, since Mrs. Lucinda was 'onto his shenanigans' or something like that with words he didn't know or wanna know.

"Excited, Kiddo?" Dad smiled, and everything was awesome, and Shawn grinned. Okay, so it wasn't even light out and he was pretty sure it was gonna rain, but that just meant that he could make Gus make mud-men with him during recess. He was also pretty sure that there were going to be snacks involved sometime today.

So he nodded enthusiastically. "Yep!" He giggled. "I'm gonna be smarter than all of them there, dad. Wait'll I tell them I learned all my letters _last year_ and I can _read_. They'll be so jealous! D'you think they'll make me their leader?"

Hey, it was a pretty good question, _he_ thought. Dad didn't look so sure, all the same. He snorted a little, and when they passed a street light he could see his dad's _Shawn is so awesome_ look that looked like _most _peoples' 'bad kid' look. "I don't think so, son." Dad laughed, and Shawn grinned. He just didn't know what he was talking about.

Before he could tell him so, though, they pulled into the driveway and suddenly he couldn't really remember what he'd been about to argue about. Dad pulled into a parking place carefully and turned to squint at him, clearing his throat. Shawn waited patiently. His mom was usually the weepy one (other than Gus), but this morning his dad looked a little teary. Deciding to be nice and not mention it, he instead unbuckled his seatbelt and grabbed his backpack, smiling brightly. "Okay, I'm ready!" _Please let me be please don't make me please I just want to go inside and find Miss Judy and Gus and see if Johnny Nyetson flunked outta kindergarten please -_

"Are you, son?" Dad asked patiently, suddenly not teary any more, and Shawn sighed. Loudly. Man! Not even once could he get out of checking everything twenty times, like dad had been teaching him since early this summer. He really wished he didn't have to constantly _check_ things and _look_ at them. He just wanted to do stuff!

So he pouted, but yanked open the Flash Gordon backpack and showed off the contents. All of the stuff he needed for class, an extra pair of clothes for his cubby, extra everything else, and lunch and a snack. Honestly, he was looking forward to his pudding cup more than anything else in the bag, even if he _did_ have his Halloween II notebook which was more awesome than almost anything else. Almost.

Dad looked at him for another long minute then nodded eventually, gesturing towards the school. "Okay, let's get you signed in. I'll drop you off today; tomorrow, the bus is going to pick you and Gus up at the end of the street, alright, kiddo?" The Worried Face was back, and Shawn fought off exasperation. Mom and dad were so weird sometimes. He was going to be fine! So he said what he had to and was good and hugged his dad goodbye before the old man left. He didn't even cry, even though eight of the other fifteen kids were crying like little babies at their parents. Including Gus, he noted with a sigh, standing next to dad until the moment that he left impatiently. _Finally_, a cranky old woman chased all of the pesky parents off, leaving them with a pretty lady who didn't look old enough to be their teacher.

Shawn grinned. That meant one thing, and one thing only.

She was totally going to be easy to bribe.

By the end of the day, he was feeling _really_ confident in his abilities to ace Kindergarten. Gus had stopped crying after lunch, after all, and they'd managed to get more green bears (why the green ones were good and the pink ones were bad, he did not know, but Gus was really excited about getting the good ones) than anybody else. Miss Judy had given them all cookies. They had done some sort of stupid get-to-know-each-other thing, but Shawn'd learned more things everywhere else.

Johnny _had_ failed out. Or was too young or old or something. Lily was from _India_, which was awesome. The cubbies weren't locked, which meant lots of fun things. You could see the arcade across the street from the classroom window, which wasn't fair at all. The playground was stupid, but it _did_ have a really tall tree to climb, which he'd already tested. It was good.

Miss Judy was tougher than she looked, but she wasn't as good as he was. She was totally in love with him. He couldn't blame her; it was just something about him that was awesome. Gus was happy, here, but that was probably because they were both smarter than everybody else and that made his friend happy. Also, here wasn't anywhere near his mom, which was also why half of the boys here were happy. Honestly, Shawn didn't really mind whether his mom was there or not. It wasn't like she was really all that annoying, like theirs. Actually, it might be kinda nice if she was annoying and wanted to be around him all the time, he considered, staring out of the window as a boy with an underbite and ugly poop-colored hair blabbed about his daddy's fishkeeping adventures.

To his disgust, Gus looked like he really cared. Why him? Miss Judy even looked glazed-over and sleepy. Shawn barely held back the giggle when their teacher made an 'uhuh' noise where she wasn't really supposed to and the boy stopped talking quickly. The stupid-looking Boring Stick (or Sharing Twig, something) was passed to a prettily mousy girl with big eyes who'd barely stopped crying. She started again when their teacher asked about her parents, though. Shawn sighed.

Gus glared at him. "I can't help it she's _silly_." He grumbled, and Gus's lips went all pale and pouty. "You're gonna get us in trouble stop talking." His best friend whined, and Shawn glared. _He_ was going to? Who was the one who couldn't use their Inside Voice like they were supposed to? He was pretty sure that wasn't _him_.

Hmph.


End file.
